Something in the Eyes
by Clever Lass
Summary: Labyrinth-Narnia crossover. Sarah from "Labyrinth" befriends Susan Pevensie, formerly a Narnian queen. Together they help each other rediscover their dreams. not slash COMPLETE!
1. The Exchange

Disclaimer: Sarah, the Labyrinth, and its king are all property of Jim Henson Productions. Susan Pevensie and Narnia are the brainchildren of the gifted and sorely missed C. S. Lewis.

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Peter had once said that he could always tell when someone else was a friend of Narnia. He said it was something in their eyes, an expression that fleetingly crossed their faces, sometimes just a tone in their voices. And whenever he said that, Lucy and Edmund would nod and solemnly agree.  
  
Susan had never seen it, not on anyone. Old Professor Kirke said she didn't even have it herself, even though she had been to Narnia -- yes, even ruled there herself for more than a decade from Cair Paravel. She knew the others thought her silly, wanting to bury herself in modern life and try and forget all about their Narnian adventures.  
  
They didn't understand her grief.  
  
Her grief paralyzed her whenever she spent too much time thinking on everything that she had lost. It wasn't just her beautiful clothes, her servants, her power, her reputation and everything else she had lost when she'd come back through the wardrobe and suddenly stopped being Queen Susan the Gentle.  
  
It was mostly Aslan.  
  
Susan missed him like an amputee misses his legs. Without him, her life had become drab and colourless, empty. She had had some hope, a couple of years ago, of seeing him when her brothers and sister had died in a train wreck -- but he never came. Now she was alone in the world, and no Aslan had ever come to her world to comfort her.  
  
Worse, he had forbidden her to return to his! Losing her human parents hadn't hurt as much as that. Oh, Aslan had claimed that she could get to know him under a different name in her own world, and she had tried. Oh, she had tried, but none of the other beliefs rang true. Once you've ridden on the back of a God, buried your face in his tawny, scented mane, been his friend and companion literally through life and death, it is hard to find solace and friendship in hymnals and pale, moralistic preaching in churches.  
  
So now, Susan just tried to get through each day. She'd get up in the morning and go to her job in the publishing house and try to come up with new ways to fool the unsuspecting public. The artificiality of it sickened her. Sometimes in boring meetings, she would doodle mindlessly, pad on her lap and eyes on the speaker, only to find when she looked down again that she had drawn a lion. Or Cair Paravel. Or a lamp-post standing all alone in a forest.  
  
This was one of those times, a Monday morning. Susan sat there doodling while the head of the marketing department introduced some young girl from America as the new Assistant Manager. This girl had to be at least fifteen years younger than Susan, and Susan almost snorted. She'd applied for the same position, but of course boring old Su couldn't hope to compete with the exciting, young, and lovely Sarah Williams.  
  
Sarah Williams, Susan sneered to herself. Sarah Williams and her poet's blouse and American accent and her dreamy, otherworldly air.  
  
Susan frowned and put down her pen. Wait a minute. Otherworldly? She glanced up sharply at Sarah, and blinked. It was there. The Look that Peter had talked about so often -- this American girl had it. It was right there, announcing to all who knew, that she had spent time in a place not of this earth. And strangely, Sarah looked back at Susan with the same expression of surprise mirrored in her grey-green eyes.  
  
The marketing director introduced everyone at the table, but Sarah didn't look away from Susan. "And this is Susan Pevensie, who'll be your Administrative Assistant," the director intoned. Susan grimaced a little and finally broke away from the girl's gaze. Great -- now she'd be assisting the woman who got her job?  
  
"It's nice to meet you, Susan," Sarah said. "It's nice to meet all of you." She came and sat down in the only empty chair, that happened to be next to Susan. As the meeting continued around them, Sarah leaned forward and nudged Susan. Pointing to the notepad not quite hidden in Susan's lap, Sarah whispered, "He's beautiful!"  
  
"What?" Susan said, distractedly. She glanced down at her notepad and blinked. Aslan's face looked out at her from the page looking disturbingly lifelike. "Yes, he is," she whispered back, hardly knowing what she said.  
  
After the meeting, both women found themselves in the ladies' washroom at the same time. "I'm looking forward to getting to know you, Susan," Sarah offered sincerely, meeting the other woman's eyes in the mirror as she adjusted her barette.  
  
Susan offered a polite smile, but said nothing as she reapplied her lipstick.  
  
Sarah continued on, "In a way, I feel as if I know you already. You have a sort of look about you, as if you've been to another world, or something."  
  
Shocked, Susan stared at the other girl. Her mouth hung open where she was putting on the lipstick, as if she'd forgotten to close it. Sarah's friendly but enigmatic smile finally recalled Susan to herself. "I do?" she said. She accidently put the emphasis on the first word rather than the second.  
  
Sarah nodded. "I loved your picture of the lion," she said. "He's beautiful." Finally taking pity on Susan who was still staring at her like she'd seen a ghost, Sarah broke the eye contact and took out her hair brush. She ran it through her long dark hair, not looking at Susan. "With me, it's an owl," she said.  
  
"What? What owl?" Susan asked. For answer, Sarah opened her notebook and slid it down the counter to her. The page was all owls. Or, rather, a dozen different portrayals of the same owl. If a bird could be said to have moods, Sarah had captured many of them. It was a plain barn owl, with a white face and chest and brownish outer feathers on its back and wings. On one of the closeup pictures, Susan noticed that the eyes looked almost human, save that one of its pupils was larger than the other. It looked rather melancholy and plaintive.  
  
"I like this one," she said, pointing to it. "Quite an expressive face he's got, for being covered in feathers," she laughed, trying to lighten the mood.  
  
Sarah took her seriously. "Yes, he does," she said.  
  
After that, Susan didn't resent Sarah's presence any longer. They discovered that they could actually work quite well together, and Susan was pleased to find that Sarah didn't ask her to do anything that she wouldn't -- and didn't -- do herself. Not many managers were that respectful of their assistants. It wasn't long before the two women realized that they were friends.  
  
Neither one of them said anything when she saw the other one doodling during boring meetings.  
  
One time, on a Friday afternoon several months into their business relationship, Susan caught Sarah drawing something different. Sarah never took her eyes off the speaker, but her hand moved with sure, rapid strokes across the paper. It began with some spiky, jagged lines that made Susan catch her breath -- it looked liked the beginning of a lion's mane! Susan was very familiar with how a lion's mane first showed up on the page.  
  
But then it lengthened and turned into a man's hair, spiky and wild. Then the rest of the man's face showed up and Susan's eyebrows went up in shock. The face was lean and angular, the lips thin and hard, and there were streaks at the corners of the eyes -- but what drew her attention most was that the eyes were just like the owl's eyes in Sarah's previous picture. The expression in them was grieved and wistful.  
  
The meeting ended, and the two women went back to their shared office. As they gathered up their things, preparing to leave for the weekend, Susan spoke first. "You're branching out."  
  
"Huh?" Sarah asked, distracted. "Sorry, what?"  
  
Susan merely pointed to the notebook. With a rare flash of insight, she asked with a sympathetic smile, "So, is he the owl?"  
  
Sarah glanced down at the picture and went pale. She sank down into her chair as if her legs would no longer hold her. This time it was as if she'd seen a ghost.  
  
"He is, isn't he?" Susan asked gently.  
  
Sarah nodded, going from white to red and then back to white again. She didn't take her eyes off the wild-haired guy's picture.  
  
Susan changed the subject. "Do you have plans?" she asked bluntly.  
  
"What?" Sarah finally looked up, but still looked haunted.  
  
"Dinner. Now, tonight. Do you have plans?" Sarah shook her head. "Then you're coming over to my house to eat. And we'll talk. Because I think you should, and I know I need to."  
  
Sarah finally essayed a smile. "Are you finally going to tell me about the lion?" she asked.  
  
Susan nodded slowly. "And you'll tell me about your owl-man," she said.  
  
Sarah hesitated, then nodded. "Yes."  
  
Susan had never been anybody's domestic goddess, so she stopped for some Japanese takeaway on the way home. One of the things they'd discovered in common was a love of sushi.  
  
"So, who goes first?" Susan asked her guest as she briskly stirred wasabi into the soy sauce.  
  
Sarah replied with a seeming non-sequitur. "I've brought you a gift," she said, the words bringing a strangely melancholy smile to her face. "I was at a second-hand market last weekend and saw this. I've been carrying it around in my bag for a week; just never thought to give it to you. Seems like now is the right time." She handed Susan a small wooden carving of a lion.  
  
Susan took it gently and gasped when she looked at its face. "It's him," she murmured, tracing the veins of wood that looked for all the world like the tracks of tears down its face. It was obvious to her that whoever had carved this had known Aslan. The wood's texture looked like soft fur, except where it roughed around the mane. It was golden in colour, and Susan impulsively held it to her lips and kissed the mane. A single tear meandered down her face and she smiled at her friend. "Thank you," she said.  
  
Sarah smiled. "Glad you like it. There were other lion carvings there, but this one looked like the one you always draw."  
  
Susan took a deep breath and gathered her courage. "His name is Aslan," she said reverently, watching Sarah react to the name the same way she herself had the first time she'd heard it. "We met him -- my brothers, my sister and I -- when we were children. There was a sort of door, a portal, between our worlds, and we somehow blundered into his. He's the King, you know," she said, shooting a sharp glance at Sarah to see if she was taking this seriously.  
  
Sarah was listening to hard her body leaned forward a little. "He looks like one," she said.  
  
Susan nodded and went on to tell her all about her adventures in Narnia -- including when Aslan had told her and Peter they couldn't come back to Narnia because they were getting too old. Susan still felt betrayed, and she told Sarah about her struggles to find this world's version of Aslan. "It's not the same," she said. "I've tried so many different beliefs, but none of them are the same!"  
  
Suddenly the feelings that she had tried to squash down for so many years came bursting forth in the telling, and Susan began to sob. "It's never been the same again! And the worst part is, I know my family are with him now! I've had dreams when they come and tell me how happy they are, and how the Narnia I knew was only a pale shadow of the real one. And the hell of it," Susan cried harder, "The real hell of it is that if I had stayed a 'Friend of Narnia,' that I would be with them all right now too!"  
  
Sarah said nothing, but simply embraced her friend, holding her tightly until the sobs ran out and became sniffles. "I'm so sorry, Su," she told her quietly.  
  
Susan finally sat up, reaching for a tissue to mop her face. She laughed shakily. "I've never told anyone this before, who hasn't been to Narnia. When my siblings all died and I dreamed they'd gone to Aslan's country, I still never told anyone." She turned pensive eyes on Sarah. "I've seen Aslan's country, you know. I've never seen a lovelier place in my life."  
  
"I miss the Underground, too," Sarah replied, somehow sensing that it was her turn. Not knowing where else to start, she began by telling about the owl she'd seen in the park that day she wished Toby away. She was brutally honest, talking quite candidly about what a spoiled brat she had been, and how thoughtless she had been not only to her friends, but to the king as well. How... well, cruel she had been.  
  
Tears were running freely down her face as she described their final confrontation. The king had poured out his heart to her and she had been too busy trying to remember the "right words" that would complete her role as heroine, to even listen to him. It had taken years for her to recall exactly what he had said to her then, but once she remembered she couldn't forget. His words haunted her, almost as much as the expression of despair on his face. "When his spell broke, he turned back into the owl," she finished. "I never saw him again. I don't know if he's even alive, and if he is, if he's stuck as a barn owl for eternity." She sniffed.  
  
Susan handed her a fistful of tissues. "What a soppy pair we are," she laughed through her sympathetic tears.  
  
Sarah huffed out a self-conscious laugh as she dried her own face. "The worst part of it is that it wasn't until years later that I realized he was in love with me. And it was a long time after that, when I dated wrong guy after wrong guy, that I realized I was in love with him, too. How's that for irony?" How's that for brainpower?  
  
"But isn't there some way to tell? If he's alive or dead?" Susan asked. "Can't you ask your friends about him?"  
  
Sarah shook her head. After that first night, they had never come when she called for them. "I stopped calling them years ago," she said sadly. "I figured it was time to grow up and leave the childish things behind."  
  
Susan reached over and nicked a piece of pickled ginger from Sarah's plate with her chopsticks. "It's not childish to have friends," she said quietly. "It's human. And even if it were, I'd rather be childish and have friends than to be a lonely adult." Susan knew whereof she spoke.  
  
Sarah shrugged and nodded. "Maybe you're right. It certainly hasn't been much fun," she said pensively. She glanced up and smiled at Susan. "I'm just glad I met you," she said. "I knew the first second I saw you that you would understand. You just have that look, you know... and there's a certain tone in your voice, too, that told me right away you had spent some time in a different world."  
  
"I had that look?" Susan asked, surprised. "I know you had that look; it's the first thing I noticed about you. Peter and the others always talked about being able to recognize others who knew about Narnia, but I never knew what he was talking about until I saw you in that meeting."  
  
"I never knew about Narnia, though. I've been to the Underground, but only to the goblin kingdom. I don't know if that's even in the same universe as Narnia."  
  
Susan grinned. "It must be, somehow. How else would we have recognized each other?" She thought a minute. "Ever hear of Archenland, then? No? How about Calormene?"  
  
Sarah shook her head. "Ever hear of the Labyrinth?"  
  
"No. Sorry. But that's not to say it's not in the same world. When I was a queen, the furthest I travelled was Calormene." She smiled sadly. "That sounds so funny now -- 'when I was a queen.' I'm sure no queen now." She bit into a roll with a cynical laugh.  
  
"Nonsense," Sarah said. "Once a queen in Narnia, always a queen in Narnia."  
  
Susan nearly choked on her rice. A coughing fit followed, and she grabbed her glass of water and gulped it down. Eyes streaming, she demanded, "Who told you that? What made you say that?"  
  
Sarah looked taken aback. "Uh, I'm sorry. It just seemed to me as if -- well, if you didn't voluntarily give up your throne, aren't you still a Narnian queen?"  
  
Susan slumped. "It's true. Aslan told us that at our coronation, that we would always be kings and queens of Narnia. Ed and Lucy got to go back at least one more time, though. And now they all get to be with Aslan for all eternity. And here I am, all lost and lonely." She sighed heavily. "Ah, well, it's only forever. Not that long at all," she said with a fatalistic shrug.  
  
Sarah gulped. "Where -- who said that?"  
  
"Well, if they're in Aslan's country, time has no meaning for any of them; least of all for Aslan himself. Eternity wouldn't seem very long, if I were there with him. Why, do those words have some special meaning for you?"  
  
Sarah nodded. "The king sang them to me once. In my mind, before I even met him in person. He told me that the truth hurts, but that in the Underground I'd find someone true."  
  
"Sarah," Susan said, leaning closer. "Can you tell me your king's name?"  
  
Sarah hesitated, then shook her head. "I'd rather not. And in fact, I should be going; it got late while we were weepy," she said in a halfhearted attempt at humour as she began to pick up all the takeaway boxes.  
  
"How are you getting home?" Susan asked, concerned. It wasn't always safe for women to travel alone at night.  
  
"Oh, I'll take the underground," Sarah said, and then stopped short, blushing. "The Tube, I mean!" she corrected as both women started to laugh.  
  
"Best let me call you a cab," Susan suggested through her giggles. "If there's a portal to the Underground in the Tube, I'm not sure it would be the best choice!"  
  
The next day Susan woke early and for once, she was in a good mood. Troubling as Sarah's story had been, Susan felt so relieved to have finally been able to tell her own that she felt like singing.  
  
In fact, she did sing. Blessed with a golden voice and a considerable range, Susan sang all morning long as she showered, did her housework, and thought about how to spend the afternoon. Sarah's idea of visiting the market actually sounded appealing. Susan smiled at her little carved lion and spoke to it. "I wish you could really hear me, Aslan," she said. "I'd love to be able to talk to you, even for a moment. I never really did turn away from you, you know, or from Narnia. And I looked for you here, but finding you took more imagination than I have, I think. I'm not like Lucy and Peter; never have been. I've always required things to be more tangible."  
  
Susan couldn't tell if the lion's eyes had flashed golden at her, or if it was a trick of the sunlight. With a sudden whimsical thought, she smiled and knelt down in front of the end table where the lion stood, so she was eye to eye with it. "I don't suppose you know the goblin king?" she asked. Chuckling a little at her own foolishness, she went on, "If you do, and if you see him, would you give him a message? Tell him Sarah misses him and loves him -- and wants to know if he's alive or dead." Still smiling, she tucked the little wooden lion into her pocket and went out to browse the markets.  
  
Ordinarily Susan stayed away from the little stalls of fantasy figurines, preferring her memories of what real Narnian dwarves looked like instead of the gnomish, misshapen little statues stocked by the fantasy shops. This time, though, a flash of light caught her eye and she approached. It was a little crystal ball on a stand, and Susan smiled when she saw the white owl inside it. She picked it up and peered more closely -- and then let out a startled laugh when she saw its eyes.  
  
They looked like Sarah's drawings.  
  
"How - how much is this?" she asked the seller eagerly.  
  
He replied in an East London accent. "Tha's twelve pounds ninety-five, ma'am."  
  
Sarah handed over thirteen pounds. "Keep the five pence," she told him. She liked the idea of being able to tell Sarah it had cost her thirteen even! Thirteen pounds, thirteen hours, thirteen years ago. Grinning happily, she dropped the crystal into her pocket next to the little wooden lion. She liked the thought of the goblin king meeting Aslan, even if it was only in her pocket and her imagination.  
  
It wasn't only there. Far away, in another land, two kings were meeting face to face. The desert was far to the south of Narnia, even farther to the west of the goblin kingdom. A giant golden lion sat under a stunted tree and waited patiently for a small white owl to land.  
  
The owl finally came in sight and, seeing the lion, descended sharply. He transformed as he landed on the sun baked sand in front of the lion.  
  
The goblin king wore his formal attire, down to the leather breastplate that held his symbol of office. "Aslan," he said, and bowed very low.  
  
The lion inclined his head. "Jareth," he greeted in his rich voice. As the goblin king straightened, Aslan continued. "I have a message for you."  
  
Jareth cocked his head in puzzlement. "A message, sir?"  
  
Aslan's voice took on a deeper tone of amusement. "One of my daughters on earth has apparently learned of you, and gave me a message to deliver for her friend. Tell me, Jareth -- do you know a Daughter of Eve, named Sarah?"  
  
Jareth stiffened, but could not withhold a reply from the high king. "Yes, sir. She solved my Labyrinth and defeated me."  
  
"And you still bear the bitter resentment?" the lion asked gently.  
  
Jareth swept startled eyes up to meet the golden ones. "Oh, no, sir," he blurted. "Far from it."  
  
"That is well," the lion purred. "Because according to my daughter, this Sarah misses you and loves you -- and wants to know if you are alive or dead."  
  
Jareth went pale and his jaw dropped. "Sh - she - she doesn't..." he swallowed and could not continue.  
  
Aslan growled a little. "Peace, Son of Cernaigel. I have delivered the message. Now I wish your report on the kingdom."  
  
Jareth collected himself and gave the high king his yearly report on the welfare of the goblin kingdom.  
  
"Well done, Son of Cernaigel. Now I wish your report on yourself."  
  
This was much harder, partially because it only happened once every two decades, and this report naturally had to contain the story of what happened with Sarah.  
  
Jareth was among the last of his own kind left in the Underground, because of some foolish things he had done in his youth. He ruled the goblins as both a punishment and an education; if he did well enough for long enough, he might someday be able to join the rest of his family in Arcadia.  
  
"Enough," Aslan said. "You are improving, Jareth, if Sarah's small brother was the last child you stole. You are learning restraint and responsibility, and in time will learn honour and generosity as well. Approach me, my son."  
  
Jareth went to one knee before the lion, who bent down his head and gave Jareth a lion-kiss on the forehead. He lightly rested one paw on Jareth's shoulder for an instant, and then stepped back. Jareth rose and stood tall with a strange, glad light in his eyes. Aslan's approval was heady stuff, and rarely accorded. Jareth was much, much more used to receiving the lion's forgiveness rather than his approval.  
  
"Go, now, and continue to do well," Aslan instructed. "I shall bear your greetings to Arcadia, if you wish."  
  
"Yes, Sir." Jareth bowed again and backed away before transforming back into the owl. He wheeled about in joy several times, before setting his wings for the long flight home.  
  
Aslan, watching him go, nodded in slow, majestic approval. "Yes, go, Son of Cernaigel," he rumbled. "Go and find your love; she will teach you more honour and generosity than the goblins do!"  
  
Sunday morning, Susan woke up for church. She'd been going to a different church every Sunday for as long as she could remember, usually finding them in the telephone directory or on the internet the night before. This time, with her newfound peace from having finally talked with someone about her secrets, she was determined to find one church and stick with it. If she couldn't find Aslan through experimentation, she'd try and find him through sheer, stubborn, dogged persistence. She did a whimsical search on the internet, and when the hits scrolled down, so did her jaw. There it was, in plain blue and white. Fingers shaking, she clicked on the link and then started to smile. "Church of the Lion." It wasn't far from where Sarah lived; she could pop in afterwards and deliver the little crystal owl she had bought for her.  
  
Decision made, she rang up Sarah. "Hey, I'm going to be going to church near you this morning; mind if I come round afterwards? I have something to give you."  
  
Sarah agreed, and after a moment's hesitation said, "Wait a minute. Why don't I just go with you, if the church is near me. What's the name of it?"  
  
Susan grinned. "Don't laugh. It's called the 'Church of the Lion.'"  
  
Sarah coughed, and Susan could hear her smile in her voice. "Come on, may I please laugh? It's funny!"  
  
Susan felt giddy as a schoolgirl. "Oh, all right!" She started giggling herself as she hung up the phone and went out to get into her car.  
  
The two women laughed when they saw each other, walked into the building. They were greeted by several people  
  
Susan found the preaching to be sobering. The message was all about faith, and believing in things even when you can't see them. "Children play 'make- believe' all the time. They're forever believing in things they can't see. We have to be like children," the minister claimed. "It's our adult, skeptical minds that always demand proof for things. You know, 'If I can't see it, touch it, smell it, hear it, AND taste it, then it's not real.' You know the type."  
  
Susan suddenly wondered whether Aslan had banned her from Narnia because she had started to get too skeptical, to lose her childlike faith in him. Well, she would be trying again soon, she decided. She liked the minister, and she liked the majestic lion banner that hung in the back of the church. Afterwards, when she shook hands with the minister, she noticed an odd look on his face. It was the same sudden glance of surprise she had seen on Sarah's face the first time they'd met, and suddenly she knew. Not only did he have "the look," but he could recognize it on her face as well!  
  
Her suspicions were confirmed when the minister greeted them with, "By the Mane, it's good to have new people here!"  
  
Susan almost cried. She could remember a time when "by the mane," or "by the lion's mane," was a common oath that she heard every day.  
  
The minister was fairly nice-looking, with an open, friendly smile. "I'm Darian Heath," he introduced himself.  
  
"Susan Pevensie," Susan said with an answering smile.  
  
His jaw dropped. "Not - not..."  
  
"The Gentle," she added in an undertone, with a mischievous smile  
  
She could tell that only the presence of Sarah and the other parishioners was keeping him from bowing before royalty. As it was, his eyes got very bright and he nodded rapidly several times. "Well! Miss Pevensie, this is an unexpected pleasure!" He somehow managed to make "Miss Pevensie" sound just like "Your Majesty."  
  
Susan smiled gently. "It seems we have much to talk about, Reverend Heath."  
  
"Darian, please. May we do so?" he asked eagerly. "This evening? Over dinner, perhaps? Here is my card; I shall be in all afternoon."  
  
Sarah smiled behind her hand, watching Susan make a date with the minister after church! Smiling happily, the the minister turned to Sarah. "So, are you also..?"  
  
"Someone who's never been to Narnia," Sarah said lightly, but too quiet for any of the other parishioners to hear. "Sarah Williams."  
  
"No?" Darian asked, smiling. "But you have the look --"  
  
"I know all about the look," Sarah rejoined with a sly smile. "And I never said I hadn't, uh, travelled -- I just haven't been to Narnia."  
  
Susan, seeing the backlong of people waiting to shake the minister's hand and leave, nudged Sarah. "We should go. Darian, I'll ring you later. Goodbye!"  
  
Sarah invited her friend over for lunch. "Nothing fancy, just sandwiches." Susan accepted, and offered a lift home in return.  
  
"So, what do you have for me?" Sarah wanted to know as they made the sandwiches together.  
  
"Oh, I picked up a little something for you at the secondhand market yesterday," Susan said mysteriously.  
  
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Come on, let's have it," she grinned.  
  
"Wash your hands first!" Susan demanded. "Don't want to smudge it, now, do you?"  
  
Sarah obediently washed her hands and dried them. Susan took out the crystal and handed it to Sarah triumphantly.  
  
Sarah went white and had to sit down. Not only the crystal, but the owl..! Peering closely, she noticed its odd eyes, and nearly choked.  
  
"It's him, isn't it?" Susan asked, sounding quite chuffed. "I looked for one like that without the crystal, but they didn't look like him, like that one does."  
  
Sarah nodded, her motions jerky. "It's him," she said, sounding hollow. She glanced up. "And it's no wonder this was the only one. He uses -- used crystals like this for his magic," she explained.  
  
Susan blinked. "Oh! Well, good. That means you can call him with it and see what happens. See if he's still alive."  
  
Her matter of fact tone surprised Sarah and seemed to inspire courage. If Susan believed it was possible, then... maybe it was! "I will," she decided. "Right after lunch."  
  
"Uh, want me to leave?" Susan offered.  
  
Sarah shook her head with a wry smile. "Uh-uh. In case nothing happens, I want you here to deal with my crushing disappointment!"  
  
The two women bolted their sandwiches and rushed through the cleanup. Then Sarah took the owl-crystal into the lounge room where there was a mirror. She took a deep breath and gazed into the mirror as she said, "I wish..." she hesitated, frightened, until Susan gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze. Sarah lifted her chin. "I wish I could see the goblin king, right now!"  
  
Nothing happened. Sarah gazed into the eyes of the tiny owl inside the crystal. "Come on, I know it's you in there," she said, tapping the glass with a fingertip. "Please, I just need to know if you're all right."  
  
Nothing happened.  
  
Sarah asked once more, "Please! I wish to speak to the goblin king!"  
  
Still nothing happened, and her face crumpled into tears. Susan patted her shoulder. She hadn't know what to expect, but she had definitely expected something! Not this.. this nothing. "Oh, Sarah," she said. "I'm so sorry. I thought it would work. I thought -- " Susan stopped and stared. The little owl in the glass sphere had winked at her! "Sarah," Susan said in a different tone, realizing what had gone wrong. "Do it again. Make the wish again, but use his name. His name, not his title."  
  
"What good will it do?" Sarah sniffed.  
  
"Please, just trust me. I am a Narnian queen, you know; I do know something about the power of names."  
  
Sarah blew her nose, wiped her eyes, and picked up the crystal again. Gazing at the tiny owl, she said simply, "Jareth, I wish you were here."  
  
This time was different. The mirror rippled like water, and suddenly a strong breeze blew out of it. Sarah's curtains ruffled and a few of her papers sailed across the room.  
  
And then a husky voice with a silvery edge said, "Sarah..." She whirled around to see the goblin king appear behind her. He smiled tenderly. "Your wish is my command," he whispered. With a glad cry, Sarah threw herself into his arms, alternately laughing and crying. He stroked her hair and whispered endearments to her with such an expression of fervent affection that made Susan feel she was intruding on a very private moment. She had to leave the room.  
  
She leaned on the counter in the kitchen and took out her little wooden model of Aslan. She kissed its face and whispered, "I don't know if you told him or not, but if so, thank you!" She hugged the lion and laughed softly. Then she heard her name being called, and returned to the lounge room.  
  
Sarah's face glowed with happiness, and Jareth had a possessive arm around her and a beaming smile. Sarah took his hand and led him forward. "Jareth, this is my friend Susan. She's the one who brought me the crystal. Susan, this is Jareth. He's... he's..." Sarah started to laugh again. "He's alive! And, daft man that he is, he claims to love me."  
  
Jareth recognized something in Susan's bearing -- and her name rang a bell in the recesses of his mind. If he hadn't seen Aslan so recently, he might not have remembered, but as it was... He stood up straight and made Susan a shallow bow, as from one monarch to another. "Queen Susan, it is an honour to make your acquaintance," he said.  
  
While Sarah watched, Susan suddenly stood taller and took on a more dignified bearing. In an instant, she became royalty. She swept Jareth a curtsey -- not too low, for she greeted him as an equal -- and said, "King Jareth, the pleasure is mine! And all the more so because you have made my friend very happy."  
  
Jareth shook his blond head, still smiling. "It would never have happened if not for you, Madam. If you had not sent me that message, I would still be moping heartbroken at home and thinking Sarah hated me."  
  
"What message?" Susan asked.  
  
"Yes, what message?" Sarah wanted to know.  
  
Jareth frowned. "Did you not ask your lord to convey a certain personal message to me from Sarah?"  
  
Susan's eyes widened. "You mean, he... you... you..." Suddenly she collected herself and asked, "Sir, do you mean to tell me that you've had dealings with the Son of the Emperor across the Sea?"  
  
Jareth smirked. "Great, tall fellow, yes? Tawny fur, golden eyes, and a mane even bigger than mine? Goes by the name of Aslan?" He blinked innocently. "Is that who you mean, Madam?"  
  
"Yes!" Susan cried. "By the Mane, yes!" She beamed. "Sir, please give him my fondest regards, the next time you see him."  
  
"It will be my pleasure to do so, Queen Susan. Have you any further messages?"  
  
"Yes." Susan swallowed hard. "If you please, King Jareth, kindly tell Aslan that I am earnestly seeking him in my own world, and... and I am sorry it took me so long to start." She smiled at Sarah. "And if you'll excuse me, I have a minister to ring up."  
  
Somewhere, in a gorgeous country atop a high mountain, a lion smiled. 


	2. The Invitation

On the other side of a windswept hillside just south of the Labyrinth, two kings were again meeting face to face... only this time there was a third person with them.

"Aslan," Jareth greeted with a deep bow. Beside him, Sarah sank into a low curtsey.

Aslan inclined his head. "What do you wish of me, Son of Cernaigel?" he asked.

"I wish to marry this Daughter of Eve," Jareth said humbly.

Sarah trembled with fear as those golden eyes were turned on her. "Approach me, Daughter of Eve," Aslan said. Jareth's hand was steady and comforting on her arm as she took those few shaky steps that put her right between the lion's paws.

Aslan made her look up. "And do you wish to marry this goblin king, this final remnant of the _Sidhe_, daughter?"

"I -- I do, Sir," Sarah said.

"Why?"

Sarah blushed. "Sir, he has been in my thoughts -- and in my heart -- ever since I first met him. And... and I think I can help him. I'd like to try, anyway."

"That is a good response, Daughter of Eve. And are you ready to become a goblin queen?"

Sarah dropped her eyes. "No, sir," she said honestly, "But I'll do my best."

Aslan dropped his head and bestowed a kiss on her forehead. His richly scented mane brushed her face and she smiled and stood taller. Yes, she could definitely see why Susan had missed her lord so much!

"Daughter of Eve, you will be a good queen. I will marry you and Jareth one month from today."

Jareth and Sarah both beamed. "Approach me, Son of Cernaigel," Aslan said. Jareth went close and bowed. "You have chosen well, Jareth. She will bring you joy and wisdom, and your kingdom will prosper under your dual reign."

Jareth's smiled. "Thank you, Aslan!"

Aslan gave him a lion-kiss on the forehead and Jareth stood tall and beaming. "Go now, my son, and begin your preparations. But leave this little daughter of Eve with me for a time." He glanced at Sarah. "I sense she has some questions for me."

Jareth bowed and transformed into the owl. He took wing and circled around them once before heading back to the castle.

"Now, then, daughter," Aslan said.

"Please, sir – what about Susan? Shall she ever come to Narnia again?"

"She can never return to Narnia, for the Narnia she knew is no more. But there are other countries, daughter, and other kingdoms. And Queen Susan is not without human friends who know of them."

"But what if she can't find you again? She's lost her entire family, and feels very alone without them. And shall she ever see you again? She does love you and she misses you so..."

"Your concern for your friend is to your credit; however, that is all a part of Susan's story, not yours."

"I understand, sir, but –"

"What, child?"

"Shall she ever see you again?"

Aslan almost smiled. Sarah could have sworn that he did. "That too is her story, daughter. I will say, though, that the answer depends on you." And leaning down, Aslan breathed gently on Sarah, a rich and scented breath that removed her worry and left her feeling nothing but peace.

"Now, my daughter, you must return to your king. The two of you have a wedding to plan, and royal guest lists can sometimes be tricky!" There was a glimmer of amusement in the lion's golden eyes as he opened his mouth wide and gently blew her back to the Goblin castle...

...Where Jareth caught her in his arms and clasped her close to him. "Did you get your questions answered?" he asked, kissing her forehead and inhaling her fresh scent.

"Not really," Sarah said with a shrug. "He is absolutely wonderful, but he's not that great at answering questions!"

Jareth laughed. "You just have to ask the right ones," he teased, reminding her of her first conversation with Hoggle.

"I was asking him about Susan, if she would ever see him again, but all he said was that it was her story, and not mine. A polite way of saying 'none of your business.'"

Jareth chuckled again, leading Sarah over to a desk with two chairs pulled up to it. "Ah, you fell for the old 'ask about someone else' routine," he grinned. "That's one of the first lion-lessons anyone learns: you only ever ask him about yourself!"

He handed her a scrap of parchment with a few names written on it. "There now, have a look at that, and see if I've left out any of your human people that you'd like to invite to the wedding."

Sarah scanned the list. Father, check. Stepmother, check. Toby, check. She raised an eyebrow at the name Linda Williams, and sighed. Negligent mother, check. Maybe Linda would send a nice gift, but Sarah knew she wouldn't come to the wedding. It would make her feel too old, to see that her daughter was old enough to marry. Sarah stopped short at the last name on the list: Susan Pevensie. Her jaw dropped.

"Of course! Jareth, you're wonderful!" She flung her arms around him in delight.

"Uh, thank you," Jareth replied, a little confused at the reaction but taking advantage of the closeness to give her a kiss.

It distracted Sarah for a moment. She returned his kiss with a thoroughness that took his breath away, and then sat back. "What I mean, my love, is that it's a stroke of genius to invite Susan to the wedding! Aslan said he was going to marry us; that means Susan will get to see him even if she can't go back to Narnia! That must be what he meant when he said it would be up to me!"

"I actually added her name because I thought it would be nice for the woman responsible for bringing us together to get invited to our wedding. All of her personal history with the High King is really none of my business. I do appreciate the compliment to my mental faculties, though, and totally agree with you." Jareth's eyes danced.

Sarah grinned. "It doesn't matter. I would invite Susan anyway; but this way we'll be able to do something nice for her." She playfully tugged a lock of Jareth's hair. "And how generous of you to agree so readily with your future bride," she teased. "I'm sure you'll be a very biddable husband."

"Modest and humble, too," Jareth affirmed, rescuing his hair and catching her hands to kiss. "Sarah, what do you say we leave all this here for the secretaries to work out? There are much more important things we could be doing right now."

"Such as?"

Instead of answering, Jareth scooped her up in his arms and carried her over to the window. Setting her gently on the sill, he pointed out to the horizon. "We could be taking a tour of 'our' kingdom, either on horseback or a romantic carriage ride, whichever you prefer. I want to show you some of the beautiful things you missed when you were here before."

Sarah leaned her head against her fiance's shoulder. "The romantic carriage ride sounds nice," she said, "But we should finish the guest list first. Work before play," she playfully ordered.

Jareth sighed, burying his face in her dark, silky hair. "That confounded lion was right," he groaned. "You _are_ going to teach me responsibility and self-discipline, aren't you?"

Sarah laughed and ruffled his already wild hair. "Don't worry, Jareth dear," she whispered. "I'll teach you other things, too!" and pressing her lips to his, much to his delight, she made a good start.

Susan was, at that very moment, also enjoying the company of a handsome young man. When she'd left Sarah's flat that Sunday, she had taken a chance and walked down past the Church of the Lion again, and had met up with Darien as he was locking things up. He turned and walked up the street with her.

"Your Majesty!" he greeted joyfully. "Uh, I mean, Miss Pevensie!"

"Hello, Darien," she replied cheerfully. "And you can call me Susan if you wish. I was just on my way home and thought I'd stop back and save myself a telephone call."

"Excellent!" Darien beamed. "Would you care to join me for a cup of tea? And we can talk."

"Love to, thanks," Susan smiled. "I'm dying to hear about your... travels."

Darien grinned and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow. "I'm dying to tell someone about them," he confessed. "Here, this is the café I was thinking of." They went in and ordered the tea, and found a small table by the window that overlooked a tiny park. When the waitress brought over their pot, he poured out for both of them and took a grateful sip of his own. "Mmm, that's lovely."

"Sarah is many wonderful things, but an American can never make a proper cuppa," Susan said with an appreciative sip of her own. "So tell me, when did you travel to Narnia? How did you get there?"

Darien grinned. "Actually, I was born there." Susan gaped, and Darien went on, "Want to hear something even stranger? I've seen you there before!"

Susan gave him a skeptical glance but said nothing.

"It's true," Darien insisted. "My father was Lord Arlian, a Telmarine and a loyal supporter of King Caspian the Ninth. Miraz the Usurper had him executed for treason when he took over the throne. My mother married one of Miraz's advisors when I was only about eight or nine."

"But then, how did you get into our world?"

"The Lion rescued me from my stepfather. He was worried about King Caspian's bid for the throne, and he was taking it out on me – with a stick – and along came the Lion heading up a whole group of revellers. You and your sister were riding on his back. The Lion turned my stepfather into some sort of shrub and then took me away with him. I was the last little Telmarine who went through the portal."

Susan's eyes were wide. She remembered Aslan rescuing a small boy from being beaten by a man, and then the dryads and merry-makers had taken charge of the boy and she hadn't seen him again. She remembered following Peter through the portal – dimly, vaguely, she remembered looking back and seeing a long line of Telmarines form up behind Lucy. The last few were only children, she recalled; Darien must have been one of them! She herself had been only twelve, and Peter thirteen at the time. "I remember now!" she gasped. "But why didn't you stay there in Narnia if you had the choice?"

Darien sobered. "I didn't have a choice. The Lion told me he wanted me here, in your world. He said he had work for me here. I only stayed with the rest of the Telmarines on the island for a few months before I met an English couple named Heath who were shipwrecked there and decided to adopt me. When they were rescued a few weeks later, I went home with them."

Susan started to laugh. "So we've both been living here, in England, for most of our lives and I'd given up on ever talking to a Narnian again!"

Darien laughed. "If someone had told me at age nine that I'd someday be having tea with Queen Susan, I'd have laughed at them. And yet, here we are."

"Do you remember Lord Arlian,your father?" Susan asked sympathetically.

"Bits and pieces," Darien replied thoughtfully. "He was at court so often, trying to look out for young Caspian – His Majesty Caspian the Tenth, I mean – that I never saw him much. My grandmother was His Majesty's nurse, though, and she's the one who knew all about the Old Narnians. I still remember the stories she told me when she got home late at night, about the High King Peter and the rest of you. I never thought you were even real, much less that I'd ever meet you. And here I have met you, twice! Lion alive, but it's so much more than I expected! Indeed, I am the most fortunate man who ever travelled the worlds!"

Susan's eyes filled with tears at the expression, remembering when everyone around her had used them – swearing by the Lion, and by His mane, and all that.

Then Darien shocked her. "I just wish I knew the Lion's name."

Susan began to cry in earnest. Dismayed, Darien drew his chair closer and offered her a handkerchief. "What? What, Susan – did I say something wrong?" He put a tentative arm around her shoulders.

She shook her head, trying to control her sobbing. "Aslan," she choked. "The Lion's name was – is Aslan." She drew in a deep, shuddery breath and tried to smile. "I'm sorry, Darien. I didn't mean to fall apart on you here."

She looked up to see a strange light in his eyes. "Aslan," he murmured reverently. And again, "Aslan." His face shone with such wonder that Susan forgot about her tears. Suddenly she was faced with the unhappy realization that she had been selfish for most of her life. Always concerned with what she had lost, she had never really appreciated how lucky she was.

How many other people had entered a magical land, been given rulership of it, and had been able to speak face to face with their God, ride on his back, and call Him by name? Not even Darien had been that fortunate – he'd been expelled from the magical land with a bunch of strangers, had never really even known his God's name! Briefly she wondered why the Old Narnians had never mentioned Aslan's name to Darien, but then remembered that she and her siblings were just as much of a myth to the Old Narnians as Aslan was... and some of the old stories didn't even get their names right!

Now, looking at Darien's face, lit with joy from within, she felt shamed. She had been given so much more than most, and yet she'd felt resentful and betrayed when Aslan told her to find him under a different name. Silly goose, she told herself. It's not like he abandoned me at all! I just acted like he had! And now that Aslan had seen fit to introduce her to this stranger, she refused to go on moaning about how much she had lost! She had a real, live second chance, sitting right next to her.

"Darien?" she said in a small voice.

The young minister was still euphoric over finally learning the name of his God. "Yes?" He beamed at her.

"Would you be willing to teach me what Aslan is like in this world?"

Darien impulsively took both of her hands in his. "I would be honored and delighted," he exclaimed.

It only took a few days of their meeting together for Bible study to convince Darien that he had fallen in love with a queen. Susan's mind was so sharp and agile that it contrasted sharply with her gentle, quiet demeanor. The dichotomy fascinated the young minister, and he resolved to learn as much about her as he possibly could.

For her part, Susan was athirst for information. Everything that Darien taught her about Christ rang true in her mind and reminded her of Aslan. She sobbed again at the recollection of seeing the magnificent lion humiliated and punished to pay the price for something that someone else had done, and Darien's own eyes filled with tears as she described it to him. He explained about Christ's crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension, and Susan smiled with a quiet joy as she remembered how happy she and Lucy had been to see Aslan alive again.

The twice-weekly sessions became daily ones, and the one-hour lesson lengthened to three or four. Susan loved the way Darien's face would shine with love as he talked about his Lord – it was a mirror of her own when she thought of her own Lord. Gradually she came to see that they were one and the same. In a world populated by humans, the Lord had come as a human, but in a world created for talking beasts, He had become one himself.

Along with Susan's progression of epiphanies came the dawning realization that she liked Rev. Darien Heath very much! She was just beginning to realize _how_ much, when a strange envelope arrived in her mailbox. It was white, with gold borders, and seemed to be made of some sort of stiff fabric. She broke the wax seal, which was dark red and impressed with some sort of weird animal's head. She pulled out the single sheet of parchment the envelope contained.

_Jareth by the mercy and judgement of Aslan, King of the Goblins and Lord of the Labyrinth, Son of Cernaigel and last surviving member of the Sidhe race, to Susan Pevensie, once and always Queen of Narnia, Lady of Cair Paravel and Lantern Waste, Duchess of Beaversdam, and Daughter of Eve, Greeting._

Susan smiled as the old language began to come back to her. She did wonder why Jareth was the one writing to her instead of Sarah, but she read on, smiling at the use of his royal plural "us." She used to do that, too!

_Because of Your Majesty's part in reuniting us with our well-beloved Lady, Sarah Williams, Mistress of the Labyrinth, Duchess of the Goblin City, and likewise a Daughter of Eve, we are pleased to welcome you to our nuptial ceremony and the festivities relating thereto. The celebrations will commence at thirteen o'clock on the thirteenth day of the month of Overflow, which Your Majesty knew in Narnia as Greenroof, and knows in your present world as May._

_Your Majesty is invited and encouraged to bring a guest if you so desire; if you do not, and yet wish a companion, members of the highest ranks of nobility in the Underground will be vying for the honour of accompanying your esteemed and royal person to the celebrations._

_Due to the difficulty of frequent travel between our two worlds, the ecclesiastical personage who will conduct our marriage ceremony has offered to provide a portal between the worlds one hour before the ceremony, at twelve o'clock at the Church of the Lion._

_Your Majesty bears our eternal gratitude for bringing us together, and we eagerly anticipate your presence at our wedding. Given this last day of the month of Bourgeon (April), at our lodging in the Castle beyond the Goblin City, Labyrinth, Goblin Kingdom, Underground._

It was a wedding invitation. A royal wedding! Susan had only been to one of them in her life, when Prince Cor of Archenland married the Lady Aravis of Calormen. She squealed with delight and read it over again to make sure she hadn't missed any of the meaning couched in the high, formal language. Then she ran for the phone.

"Darien! You won't believe this! Listen, I have to see you right away; can I come round? Half an hour? Lovely! Just wait until you see what I have to show you!"

Hurriedly, Susan slid the letter back into the envelope, and then grabbed her purse. If she ran, she could just make it to the bus on the corner that would take her to Darien's house.

She greeted him with an enthusiastic embrace, which surprised him but which he willingly returned, and then shoved the envelope into his hands. "Read this! You have to read this!"

She had told him about Sarah and Jareth that first afternoon in the tea shop.

Darien smiled and opened the letter. His eyebrows rose higher and higher until he reached the end. He looked up at her with astonishment. "This is incredible, Su! How wonderful for you! You must be ecstatic!" He read it again, and then asked with a puzzled look, "But why's he making my church the portal?"

Susan grinned. "Probably because Sarah told him about my meeting you. Darien, will you be my guest for the wedding? Please, say you will!"

He smirked. "What about all those ranks of nobles vying for the honour of being your companion? Why me?"

Susan laughed. "I couldn't give a fig for any of those vying nobles! Please, I would love it if you would come! I know it won't be Narnia, but it will at least be in the same universe as Narnia. Please?"

Darien gently touched her face with slender fingers. "My dearest Susan, I would be delighted. How often does one get invited to a royal wedding in fairyland, after all?"

Susan impulsively grabbed his hand. "It will be wonderful, you'll see! I do miss Sarah – and isn't it so romantic that they've finally gotten together after meeting each other so long ago?"

Darien said in a strange-sounding voice, "Yes, it is. Quite romantic."

Susan went on babbling. "And they really fell in love with each other so long ago, and just misunderstood each other for years! It's so lovely that they've finally worked them out... and they're going to be spending eternity together!"

Darien put his other hand over hers. "Don't you think it would have been even better, though, if they had never had those misunderstandings? If they hadn't had to spend all those years pining, but instead enjoying each other's company?"

Suddenly Susan realized he wasn't talking about Sarah and Jareth anymore. His eyes darkened with emotion, his hand tightly clasping hers – Susan was experienced with men, but not with love. Still, she could see the signs. She did like Darien, very much, but was that love? She would have to think about it. She smiled and gave his hand a gentle squeeze before she withdrew it. "I think it still would have taken them a little while to determine if they were right for each other," she said graciously.

"True," Darien agreed equably. "It's best to be very sure first. After all, the wisest king who ever lived advised people not to awaken love before its time." His understanding smile made Susan feel better about her decision, and she smiled back.

At the Goblin Castle, wedding preparations were well underway. Goblins were everywhere, some scurrying around the corridors, some flying through the air assisted by Jareth's boot-toe. Sarah scolded him for his goblin-kicking habit whenever she saw him do it, but he protested that it took a long time to break a centuries-old habit.

Sarah was handling the incoming mail and Jareth was in charge of decorations. Sarah was finding it difficult to concentrate with all the activity, though. When Jareth began using the goblins themselves as decorations, she was forced to intervene. "Uh, Jareth?"

"Yes, love?"

She beckoned him over and whispered, "Is it entirely necessary to hang the goblins along the tops of the walls?"

"Well, they weren't hanging the buntings right, so I hung them up instead," Jareth explained.

Sarah bit her lip to hide the smile. "Yes, but – the thing is, they are not, themselves, decorative! Don't you think it might be better to simply hang up fewer buntings slower, and have it look nice, than to have the walls lined with smelly and unattractive goblins and no buntings at all?"

Jareth admitted she might have a point. He waved a hand toward the row of hanging goblin and they all fell to the floor and ran off, screeching.

"Doesn't it hurt them?" Sarah wanted to know.

"Oh, no," Jareth assured her. "Goblins are extremely durable, and have an incredibly high pain tolerance."

"Not very bright, though, are they?" Sarah said, remembering the goblin battle they had waged against her the last time she'd been in his kingdom.

Jareth looked resigned. "Alas, no. Part of my punishment – and my restitution – is to rule these poor stupid creatures and try to teach them some wisdom and self-control." His face took on a cynical edge and he looked away. "It is hoped that in the course of this, I'll pick up some of my own."

Sarah felt his unhappiness and reached for his hand. "Jareth, my love, look at me." Unhappily he met her eyes and she stroked one hand down the side of his angular face. "I love you," she said gently. "I've loved you ever since I was old enough to realize what you'd been telling me all those years ago. I love you just as you are, but if you want to change I'll do my best to help you. I don't even know what you're being punished for, but if I can possibly help you make restitution, I will."

Jareth stared at her face for just a moment in shock, and then pulled her impulsively into his arms. He clasped her close for a long moment as a lump grew in his throat. He murmured her name and smiled as a tear slid down his lean face to fall into her hair. "Thank you, Sarah. Thank you so much. You have no idea how much that means to me."

He finally pulled away, but kept her hands firmly in his. "You can't possibly know, because I know Aslan wouldn't tell you – but I think it's important you know what I'm making restitution for."

"Only if you want to tell me, Jareth."

"I _don't_ want to tell you, but I think you should know – since it was my actions that affected things on your own world. You see, in my youth, I was even more self-willed and impetuous than I am now..." he noticed her playfully shocked expression and grinned. "...If you can believe it! Anyway, my parents were at their wits' end trying to control me, but I would never listen." Jareth went on to tell her a complicated story involving his family, his ambition, Aslan, the race of unicorns, and a malicious practical joke with dire consequences.

Sarah was appalled by the narrative, but more determined than ever to help Jareth win back his position among the _Sidhe_. Aslan had let the rest of them go on ahead to Arcadia, while keeping Jareth behind to teach him some responsibility by making him ruler of the stupidest race in the Underground.

It was a favorite punishment of the High King's, Jareth told her, referring to a man who had been a Narnian star (in the heavens, not on the stage) and who had displeased Aslan by wanting more power than a star should have. Aslan granted his wish by giving him power – over an island and a race of the stupidest (but friendliest) dwarves in the Eastern Sea. Coriakin had eventually earned his place back among the heavens, Jareth said with determination. He was resolved to do the same, and someday join the rest of the _Sidhe_ in Arcadia.

Sarah, upset that Jareth's foolishness and arrogance had caused the extinction of an entire race of magical beings in her own world, nevertheless promised to help him any way she could.

"And right now," she said finally, "I think my help will be of greatest use to you if we switch jobs! I'll handle the decoration and you handle the correspondence. You know I can't use all that old-fashioned formal jargon!" Jareth laughed and agreed to her request, and set to work.

He was pleased to find, an hour later, that the hall was decorated beautifully, and that by giving the enormous job of answering all the correspondence his full attention, he had actually been able to finish it.

"Sarah!" He exclaimed jovially, swinging her up in his arms and twirling her around. "The hall is lovely, the letters are answered, and... how in the world did you manage to get the goblins to do what you wanted? I know for a fact you couldn't have done all this yourself!" He set her down, puzzled, and looked about the room bewildered.

She laughed. "All the time you've spent with other people's children and you never figured out how to get them to do what you wanted? Goblins are very much like small children, I think – I just pulled a 'Tom Sawyer,' that's all." She smiled at his inquisitive glance and explained. "I started out by doing it all myself and acting like it was great fun. Then, as a great favor, I let one goblin try it – but only after he begged me. Then the others... well, let's just say I drive a hard bargain."

Jareth shook his wild-haired blond head. "If I weren't already completely in love with you, this would have seen to it," was all he could say. "So what shall we do with the evening?"

Sarah blushed and looked away. "Well... we haven't gone dancing for... what, fifteen years or so?"

Jareth laughed. "Very well. Just don't destroy the ballroom this time; that's all I ask."

"It's a deal!"

The day of the wedding dawned clear and bright. In her tiny London flat, Susan woke early and stretched, wondering why she was so happy. Then she remembered, and leaped out of bed singing. She bathed and dressed quickly and raced down town. There was a very special shop she had to pick up some clothing from.

She went from there to her hairdresser's. The hairstyle she chose was one of her favourites from when she had been a queen: the top hair braided into a coronet, with a circlet of gold woven through, and the back hair left in long ringlets hanging down the back. She regretted that her hair wasn't as long as she used to keep it, but the modern world really didn't allow for such things. Knee-length hair would be bothersome to wash and comb every day, and would forever be getting caught in the doors of the Tube. Sometimes she still missed it though. As she left the hairdresser's she threw a scarf over her hair so it wouldn't get mussed.

After that, she raced over to Darien's house (he lived very close to his church) to change and finish getting ready. He answered the door having, apparently, just gotten out of the shower. His curly brown hair was still wet, and he was still buttoning up his shirt. "Susan, hello! I'm not quite ready yet, but –"

"Oh, good, I'm glad I caught you before you finished dressing!" Susan greeted with a grin.

Darien's sparkling green eyes widened. "And just how am I supposed to take that, young lady? I am a man of the cloth, after all!" He grinned.

Susan blushed a little, but laughed. "Sorry – didn't realize how that would sound! I brought something for you to wear, though... if you'd like to. You don't have to, but I just thought... anyway, here it is." She handed him a bag from the costume shop downtown. He raised an eyebrow, but took it with a gallant smile. "It's just a little something I had them sew up; I know the woman who runs the shop, and she owed me a favour, so..." Suddenly aware that she was babbling, she changed the subject. "Do you have somewhere that I can use to change into my own outfit?"

Darien showed her the guest room with its attached bath (with a full-length mirror, Susan was glad to note), and then excused himself to change his own clothes.

Twenty minutes later, Susan was ready. She went out into the sitting room to wait for Darien. She had stopped using a lot of makeup years ago; today she'd applied just a hint of colour to eyes and lips, but looked very natural. Her gown was similar to one she had worn to Prince Cor's wedding, only in a deep, dusky rose instead of pale blue. The colour brought out the colour in her cheeks and the deep blue of her eyes. The bodice laced up the front, and plunged to a deep V in the skirt, which was dark rose covered with tiny embroidered rosebuds of the palest pink.

The hair had already been done, but Susan gave it a critical glance in the mirror; good, it still held. There were more than a few threads of silver woven in with the pale gold, but for once she didn't mind. She _had _lived two entire lifetimes, after all. For the first time in years, Susan saw herself in the mirror and was satisfied. As the last surviving queen of a dead land, she felt she would not embarrass herself. She wondered whether Darien would wear what she had brought him or not. She'd had to guess at his sizes – she thought he was about the same size as Edmund had been, but couldn't be sure. She had used her memory of one of Ed's favourite hunting-dress outfits to model Darien's after.

She heard him clear his throat self-consciously, and turned around to see. He had worn the clothes, and they fit perfectly. The tunic was a spotless white, covered by a doublet of dark green that fitted closely to the waist, belted with dark brown leather, then flared out and hung halfway down his thighs. It had gold-edged slashes in the sleeves to show the tunic underneath, and was embroidered with golden leaves and vines. He wore matching dark green hose that ended in knee-high dark brown leather boots.

The dark green colour matched his eyes, and the burnished brown leather picked up the mahogany tints in his curly hair. Susan's jaw dropped.

Darien's green eyes widened when he saw Susan in her Narnian-style gown, and he dropped to one knee in front of her. "Madam," he said, with a catch in his voice. "You look like a queen."

Susan took his hand and urged him to stand up again. "And you, sir, look like a Narnian lord!" She smiled, surveying his figure again. "Truly, you look wonderful!"

"Nothing to you, but I hope I won't shame you," Darien said, getting his usual buoyant good-humour back.

"No fear," Susan shot back. She looked at her watch. "Oh, we should be going! It's past 11:30 now."

"Dearest Susan, we're not three minutes away from the church, and the portal won't open until noon. Fret not!"

Susan had butterflies in her stomach, and told him so. "I'm so nervous about attending this wedding! I'm a defunct monarch of a country that doesn't even exist anymore. How will I be received?"

"With great joy by the bride and groom," Darien said firmly. "And they are the ones who matter most. It's not all about you, no matter how beautiful you are! And that's saying something, because you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met in my life!"

Susan blushed, and smilingly accepted both the compliment and the rebuke. She gazed at him again for a long moment, until he started to get self-conscious. "What? What is it?"

She shook her head. "It's nothing bad – it's just that I've never been so glad to see a Narnian lord in this world before. And, Darien, you really do look like one." She thought a moment and said, "Technically, I suppose you _are_ one. Aren't you? Your father, Arlian, was loyal to Caspian; so even if Miraz took away your title when he executed Lord Arlian, it would have automatically gone back to you upon the true king's coronation. You're Lord Darien, really!" She smiled, delighted, and impulsively squeezed his hands. "Lord Darien of Narnia and Telmar, may the blessings of the Lion himself be upon you!"

He bowed, and kissed her hands – formally at first, as befitted a noble greeting his monarch, but then he turned them over and pressed his lips to each palm in a more intimate gesture. He couldn't help himself. "Your Majesty, I thank you for your blessing," he said simply, but with such a rich tone in his voice that it made Susan drop her eyes and turn away in confusion.

"We should get going," she said, and this time he didn't argue.


	3. The Wedding

The church was lonely and quiet at 11:45 on a Saturday morning. Their footsteps echoed softly in the cool dimness. Susan knew the portal would be opening soon, but she didn't know where it would be. Would they be suddenly whisked to the Underground as they walked in the door? No; nothing happened. Maybe if they approached the altar in front? No, not that either. As the clock in back ticked closer towards noon, Susan grew more and more nervous. Darien silently offered her his hand, and she clutched it like a lifeline.

You were a queen, she chided herself. A queen who became a legend. What is there to fear? Her voice of insecurity answered her: you were a queen who became a secretary. What's impressive about that?

When the clock struck twelve, she became aware of two things. One was a sweet smell that suddenly wafted on a breeze through the silent sanctuary, and the other was a slight movement she caught in the back of the church out of the corner of her eye. She heard Darien's swift intake of breath and turned sharply.

Aslan was there. Where Darien had hung a banner with a lion on it, now there was the real thing. He was real, warm, and living, and the reflected gold of his coat lit up the darkened sanctuary like a beacon.

Like two children holding hands, the Narnian queen and lord approached the Lion slowly. At a distance of a few feet, Darien dropped to his knees before Aslan and greeted him. "My Lord, you are very welcome here."

"Rise, my son," Aslan rumbled. "You shall be welcomed into my world in your turn. You have done well the work I sent you here to do." Darien stood up with a glad light in his eyes while Aslan turned his attention to the queen.

"Susan," he said. "Approach me."

Wiping away a stray tear, Susan went closer with faltering steps. Aslan lowered his magnificently maned head and gently touched her forehead with his tongue. "I have missed you too, Daughter," he rumbled.

With a glad cry, Susan threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his scented mane, sobbing with happiness. "Aslan, oh, Aslan! I'm so sorry! I never meant to forget you or forget Narnia, but I couldn't find you here and I missed you so much..!"

"Peace, Daughter," Aslan growled a little, but with tolerance. "I did not come to hear your excuses, but to welcome you back!" He shook his mane and breathed on the two of them. "And now it is time we were gone."

His breath gave strength and courage, and instead of blowing them to the Underground, it blew their world away and replaced it with the Underground. They appeared at the edge of a garden that was decorated with ribbons, lanterns, and a pavilion. Two tall figures stood close together in the centre of the garden under the pavilion, one dark and one fair. They both turned sharply when they heard Susan and Darien arrive. Sarah and Jareth were both dressed in their celebratory splendour: Sarah in a misty silver gown and Jareth in a royal blue outfit that was not unlike Darien's green.

"Susan!" Sarah cried, and rushed to embrace her friend. Jareth followed close behind, smiling.

"Welcome, Your Majesty," he said with a slight bow after the women had separated. "Your presence fills us both with joy." His speech and manner were very formal, in homage to the seriousness of the occasion – and in contrast with Sarah's effusive greeting.

Susan was more than a match for his formality. She made a brief curtsey and said, "Thank you, Your Majesty; it is our very great pleasure to be here."

She took Darien's hand and addressed Sarah and Jareth formally. "King Jareth, Lady Sarah, may I present Lord Darien Heath of Narnia and Telmar, who was sent into my world by Aslan. His father was Lord Arlian of Narnia and Telmar, who was loyal to His Majesty Caspian the Ninth, before his treacherous execution at the hands of Miraz the Usurper."

Darien, mindful of the etiquette of the situation, made a low bow.

Jareth's eyebrows rose. He had known all of the Caspians, but the last one had died ages and ages before Narnia came to an end. He was surprised that a human would have lived so long.

Susan went on, still revelling in the formality. "Lord Darien, I have the honour to present His Majesty Jareth, King of Goblins, Lord of the Labyrinth, and last surviving member of the Sidhe race... and his intended bride, my friend, Lady Sarah Williams, Mistress of the Labyrinth and Duchess of the Goblin City."

Jareth inclined his head in greeting, but Sarah just grinned. "Nice to see you again, Reverend Heath," she said.

Darien grinned. "You remembered me!"

"I don't meet otherworldly travellers on a regular basis," Sarah explained. "Of course I remembered you! I'm pleased that Susan brought you."

He smiled. "As am I."

"Welcome to my kingdom, Lord Darien," Jareth said. He drew the other man a little away from the two women and offered, "If you would care to accompany me, I would be happy to show you some of it briefly – and it would give the ladies a chance to talk..." Sarah and Susan nodded, smiling, and as they walked off together arm in arm, Jareth lowered his voice and murmured to Darien, "...about us. Women love to do that."

Darien glanced at the taller man just in time to catch his wink, and he laughed in agreement. "I'll be flattered if that's the case," he replied. "But are you not getting married in less than an hour? You certainly don't have to show me around at a time like this!"

Jareth chuckled and urged him, "No, come. Please. It'll help settle my nerves. Besides if we're late, I'll just run the time back and make a grand and punctual entrance."

"Fair enough," Darien replied equably. Then, eagerly, he asked, "Do you have animals here? I've always wanted to see some mythical animals. I only caught a glimpse of some in Narnia before Aslan sent me into the other world."

Jareth grinned. "What kind? I'll see what I can do." His formality had dropped like a shield, and he seemed pleased to have a playmate.

"Oh, dragons, unicorns, centaurs... anything, really."

Jareth sobered. "No unicorns, I'm afraid." He forced some cheer back into his speech and went on, "But there'll be a few dragons attending the wedding. I'll introduce you afterwards if you like. And many of the centaurs are now in Aslan's country since most of them lived in Narnia, but I can show you a gryphon and a minotaur. Want to see?"

Darien's eyes sparkled. "Do I ever!"

Jareth grinned and produced a crystal. "Take hold of it, and we'll go," he directed. Darien did so, and the two men disappeared.

"Why do I get the feeling I should never have introduced the two of them?" Susan quipped as they watched the men vanish.

"Oh, don't worry," Sarah assured her. "I'm sure Jareth will take good care of him." She thought a minute and added, "Mostly." She caught Susan's brow-raised expression of trepidation, and winked. Both women burst out laughing.

"So... I'm assuming that since I got a wedding invitation, you and Jareth are getting along all right?" Susan asked.

Sarah nodded with an impish grin. "Mostly," she repeated. She laughed a little and explained, "He's quite wonderful, really, and very devoted to his kingdom – and to me," she added shyly, "but as the last of his race, he's had no adult mentor at all. Sometimes he acts like a little boy. It's rather cute," she admitted.

"He's very handsome," Susan observed candidly, "once you get used to the hair, that is."

Sarah laughed and agreed. "So tell me about this 'Lord Darien,' if you please, Su," she teased. "How does a London church minister get to be a lord of Narnia? Not to mention the last time I saw him, he was nearly wetting himself with excitement over meeting Queen Susan the Gentle. He seems to have calmed down a bit."

"I should hope so," Susan retorted as the women walked together through the garden. "No one wants to mop up after a Narnian lord." They laughed again, and Susan explained how Darien had been born in Narnia but been sent to their world for a specific purpose.

"What do you suppose the purpose is?" Sarah wondered. She led Susan into the castle and up to her chamber, where they put the finishing touches on their appearances.

Susan got a sense of deja-vu as she met Sarah's eyes in the mirror. "Remember this is how we found out about each other?" she reminded her friend. "Ever get the feeling that everything happens for a purpose?"

Sarah nodded, remembering how they had shared their compulsive drawing with each other, and found out they were each pining for someone in another world. "I know for sure I was meant to meet you, because then I never would have known about Jareth."

Susan nodded. "Right, and if Jareth hadn't come for you then I wouldn't have known about Aslan, and probably would not have had anything to do with Darien. I guess I just have to trust him to find out his own purpose."

"Think you're in love with him?" Sarah asked.

Susan shrugged, blushing. "I don't really know. I think I might be, but we – we haven't – well, to be honest, I haven't dared to let myself think about it."

"Think he's in love with you?"

Susan nodded slowly. "I think he might be. Yes." She looked back up at Sarah, tucked a dark lock of hair out of the other woman's face and looked troubled. "I just don't know if I should pursue anything with him. I mean, what if I interfere with Aslan's purpose for him?"

"Ha. Don't give me that," Sarah scoffed. "What if you ARE Aslan's purpose for him?"

Susan was speechless. She'd never thought of that possibility before!

Sarah shot her a smug grin in the mirror. "There, see? Think about it," she urged. "Mere days after you tell me about Aslan, Jareth shows up for me, and you meet Darien. He's young, handsome, _and he was born in Narnia! _ How much more proof do you need?"

Susan had to admit her dark-haired friend had a point, but she still had an objection. "But that's part of the trouble. He IS young. The first time he saw me, he was a little boy and I was a queen."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Su! You're how old? Forty-two, forty-three, somewhere in there? And Darien looks like he's in his late thirties. I can't believe there's more than five years' difference in your ages, actually – I think you're just making excuses. Don't you like him, really?"

"I like him very much," Susan admitted, "Really. I think I might even be falling in love with him. I'm just... I don't know; I've spent so many years being lonely that I guess I'm afraid of being happy."

"Hogwash," Sarah promptly pronounced. "Pure hogwash. Do you think that's why Aslan made sure you'd meet Darien? So you'd spend the rest of your life being lonely? Do you think that's what he would want for you?"

The two women were very serious now, Susan's grey eyes meeting Sarah's moss-green ones in the mirror; one about to become a queen, the other a retired one – both travellers in other worlds.

"You're right," Susan said suddenly, realizing the truth of Sarah's arguments. Aslan would not want her to spend the next twenty years of her life the same way she'd spent the last twenty: wild parties and shallow socializing, which over the years gave way to a desolate melancholy that infected every part of her personality until the day she had met Sarah and known that at least one other person wouldn't think her insane if she talked of Narnia. No: Aslan wanted her to find him in her own world, and under Darien's tutelage, she had done so. Aslan would want her happiness – it remained to be seen whether she would find that with Darien or not. "I wish Aslan were here," she said. "I could ask him directly!"

"Well, you'll see him soon, as he's the one conducting our wedding ceremony."

Susan's jaw dropped. Dimly now, she remembered Jareth's letter saying something about the cleric who was doing the ceremony would be the one to open the portal, but she hadn't made the connection until now. "Th-that's great! I really CAN ask him directly!"

Sarah raised her eyebrows. "Do you mean to tell me that because of your special connection with him, that you can ask him questions and he'll answer them? Because my own experience, and Jareth's, lean strongly toward the camp of 'Figure Things Out On Your Own.'"

Susan slumped. "Oh, you're right! I haven't seen him in so long, I'd forgotten. He never tells any story but your own. I don't think he'd tell me his plan for Darien, just his plan for me."

"You got that right," Sarah said with her typical American briskness. She glanced up at the clock on the wall and squawked. "Oh, no, it's almost thirteen o'clock! We have to get back down to the pavilion!" She grabbed Susan's hand. "Please, Su, you'll stand up with me, right? I just don't think I can go through with this if I don't have at least ONE of my own people up there with me."

"Of course, luv," Susan smiled, smoothing Sarah's hair. Grinning as they left the room to go down, she teased, "I'll catch you when you faint."

"That's Jareth's job," Sarah joked weakly, suddenly feeling nervous.

"And speaking of Jareth, I have to ask – how old is he?"

Sarah looked uncomfortable. "Uh, why do you ask? You're really hung up on age differences, aren't you, Su?" Susan said nothing, and Sarah knew she'd have to answer. She said, "He's only twenty-eight..." As Susan raised a sceptical eyebrow, Sarah sighed and finished, "...hundred years old.

Susan burst out laughing. The other guests had started to arrive, and some of them stared. Through her giggles, she managed to say, "No wonder you weren't concerned about the age difference between me and Darien! Now I have to wonder what kind of millennia-old pervert falls in love with a fifteen-year-old!" Susan laughed harder.

Face blazing, Sarah cuffed her arm and hissed, "He's not even three millennia old yet, and I was very mature for my age!" That only made Susan laugh harder. Sarah finally had to give in and join her.

Having arrived at the edge of the garden where the wedding would be, she tried to change the subject. "Speaking of perverts, where IS Jareth, anyway? I don't see him anywhere. Probably wants to make a grand entrance, the show-off," she said fondly.

"Never mind Jareth – where is Darien? They should be back here by now, unless Jareth's going to be late for his own wedding. And should I worry about what he's doing to my date?" Susan wondered. "Darien is quite safe with him, isn't he?" She knew of Jareth's magical powers.

Sarah couldn't resist it. "Well, I hope so, but I don't know for sure. After all," she deadpanned, "Jareth isn't a TAME goblin king."

"Oh, YOU!" Susan laughed, giving Sarah a little push.

"Queen Susan, please do try not to damage my bride," came a silvery, silky voice from behind them. They whirled to see the Goblin King and the Narnian lord standing there looking... dishevelled.

The slashes in Darien's sleeves gaped open wide, and were no longer purely decorative. One sleeve hung in tatters, as did the skirt of his doublet, and his leggings. Jareth's hair was, unbelievably, even messier than usual, and his dark blue, sapphire-studded coat looked as if it had been ripped from one shoulder.

"What happened?" "Are you all right?" both women spoke at once, running to make sure the men were intact.

Jareth laughed aloud, and Darien smiled broadly. "We are both fine," he soothed. "We merely met the business end of a... What was that thing again, Jareth?"

"That..." Jareth answered, surveying the state of his garments with dismay, "Would have been a manticore. I hadn't realized he was so hungry for textiles, though."

He glanced up at Darien. "Oh, Dar, you're bleeding!" Susan gave a shocked gasp and reached for her handkerchief to stop the blood, but Jareth merely waved a hand and the cut closed up.

"Handy trick, that," Darien commented. He glanced down dejected at his own outfit that Susan had had made for him. "Wish it worked on fabric as well," he said mournfully.

For answer, Jareth conjured a crystal and tossed it up in the air. It burst like a firework and rained little bubbles down on them, and when the bubbles cleared, both men's outfits were whole again. His blond hair was marginally neater.

"That IS a handy trick," Susan complimented. "And not a moment too soon. Look!" She pointed, and they all saw that Aslan had arrived. He paced across the far side of the garden toward the pavilion where the guests had gathered.

Jareth grinned. He took Sarah's hand and bent to kiss it. "I'll see you over there, my love," he said. Then he turned to the young minister. "Dar, come and stand up with me. Sarah tells me that is the custom among you humans when you wed. Will you?"

"It's usually the groom's brother, or his best friend," Darien protested.

Jareth scoffed. "I'm the last remaining Sidhe in this world. I have no brothers left. I've behaved like a lout all my life until just a few years ago, and so have no friends. You and I have just survived a manticore attack together; I'd say that makes you closer than a brother and better than a friend! Will you?"

"I'd be delighted and honoured," Darien replied. He bowed to the ladies and they made their way to the pavilion to greet Aslan.

Susan and Sarah were silent for a few moments as the musicians began to play. Almost afraid to ask, Susan nudged the waiting bride and whispered, "What's a manticore?"

Sarah shrugged, tight-lipped with nervousness. "I don't want to know. Now hush – I'm getting married!"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Susan teased, as the music began to play a wedding march and she stepped out in front of the silvery-gowned bride. As she approached the front, Darien beamed at her, his face shining with happiness. Susan spent a brief moment indulging her fantasy that Darien looked so happy because he was imagining their wedding instead of Jareth and Sarah's. Jareth winked at her with a knowing grin that only confused Susan. The two men stood on one side of the gigantic golden Lion, and Susan stepped automatically to the other side.

Aslan growled.

Startled, Susan went over and stood with the men, wondering if she had committed a social gaffe for the Underground. The music changed, and Sarah walked quietly forward. As she came, Jareth left his place at the front and went to offer her his arm. They came and stood on the other side of Aslan, leaving Susan and Darien together. Sarah looked at her groom and smiled tenderly into his eyes.

Time stopped.

Literally. Susan looked out over the audience and saw all the goblins and other guests frozen, unmoving. A single tear lay frozen to a cheek, with the woman's handkerchief stopped in midair, frozen in the act of wiping it. On the other side of the pavilion was a crying child, stopped short with his mouth wide open. Several people had approving smiles on their wax-like faces. Even Sarah and Jareth did not move; their fond smiles were stilled, and Jareth's hand was stalled in the act of gently touching his bride's face.

"Son of Adam, you may ask her now," Aslan rumbled, turning his shaggy golden head towards Darien.

"Yes, sir." Darien said. He turned to Susan, took both her hands in his, and dropped to one knee before her. "Susan, I've travelled between worlds just as you have, and worshipped the same God as you, and in my whole life I have only been sure of two things: my love for Him, and my love for you. I ask you now, in the presence of our God: Will you marry me? Here, now?"

Shocked, Susan almost pulled her hands back, but a whiff of rich fragrance from Aslan's mane steadied her. "Aslan?" she asked him. "Is this truly what you want me to do?"

"That is your choice, Daughter; I cannot make it for you," he answered.

"But what about his purpose? The reason you called him from Narnia into our own world – I would not want to keep him from it."

Aslan growled a little. "Susan, my daughter, you know you need be concerned only with my purpose for you. You have travelled far on your path to my country; do not fall back to doubting me now."

Susan lifted her chin. "I do not doubt you, Aslan." Turning back to Darien, she took a deep breath and took the biggest risk she'd ever taken in her life. "Lord Darien, I would be pleased and proud to marry you."

There was a sound like a swift intake of air, and time began moving again. The elderly lady wiped her tears, the baby cried, and Jareth finished caressing his bride's cheek.

Darien tucked Susan's hand carefully into the crook of his elbow with such a look of elated tenderness that it made her eyes fill with happy tears.

"People of the Underground," Aslan began. Conversation stilled. He continued, "We are met today to witness and celebrate the joining of King Jareth with Lady Sarah, and of Queen Susan of Narnia with Lord Darien of Narnia and Telmar."

Sarah, shocked, glanced over to her blonde friend, but Susan merely winked at her, smiled, and tightened her grip on Darien's arm.

Aslan turned first to the Goblin King, touched his nose to Jareth's shoulder before turning to Sarah and doing the same. He breathed on them both, making them smile, stand closer and taller, and look more regal. Then he turned and did the same to Susan and Darien.

There was a burst of applause and Aslan threw his head back and let out a tremendous roar!

Jareth leaned down and whispered under cover of the sound, "Congratulations, my love; we're married now."

"But what about the vows you made me memorize?" Sarah whispered back, puzzled.

"We make our vows next, but you say them AS my wife," Jareth explained. "You ARE the Goblin Queen now."

"For better or worse," Sarah muttered as the roaring applause died down. Jareth stifled a chuckle.

"Now, Son of Cernaigel and Daughter of Eve," Aslan said. "What do you wish to say to one another?"

Jareth took a deep breath. "I, Jareth, King of Goblins, do promise to cherish you, Sarah, with my heart, worship you with my body, honour you with my mind, and protect you with my strength as long as we both live, and will bear you company into Arcadia when we die. This I swear by my kingdom."

Then it was Sarah's turn. "I, Sarah, Queen of Goblins, do vow to cherish you, Jareth, with my heart, worship you with my body, honour you with my mind, and assist you with my strength as long as we both live, and will bear you company into Arcadia when we die. I swear by my soul."

Next Aslan turned to Susan and Darien. "I believe you have some things you wish to say as well."

Darien turned green eyes on the woman he loved. He took her hands and took a deep breath. "I, Darien, Son of Adam, Arlian, and Neville Heath, do promise ..." He repeated Jareth's words, only altering the last part to say, "...and bear you company into Aslan's presence when we die."

Susan surreptitiously wiped away a tear and smiled at her new husband. She inhaled the scent of Aslan, and it gave her courage. She lifted her head and stood tall as she said, "I, Susan, once and always Queen of Narnia, do vow to you, Lord Darien Heath, that I will cherish you, Darien, with my heart... "

When they finished you could have heard a pin drop. Then Aslan said, "I have joined them here today. Who tries to undo my work will suffer my wrath!" He tossed his head back and roared loudly enough to make the pavilion shake. Then he said, with laughter in his voice, "Now let the celebrations begin!"

There was laughter, feasting, and dancing. Thoroughly blown from the wild revelry, Darien took a breather on the sidelines for a few minutes while he pensively watched Jareth and Sarah dancing together.

His new bride sidled up to him and took his arm. "What are you thinking about?" Susan asked sweetly.

He gave her an impish smile. "I was wondering if I should let my hair grow," he said, indicating Jareth's long, wild locks.

"Just as long as you comb it more than once a year," Susan said tartly. Darien laughed. Su went on with a grin, "Do you think Jareth would be offended if I bought him a comb for his wedding present?"

"Well, Sarah might be. She appears to like him the way he is. And anyway, the custom here is for the bride and groom to give gifts to their guests apparently, rather than the other way around."

Susan frowned. "That could pose a difficulty for us," she said, scanning the throng of celebrants, "especially since we didn't know we were coming to get married!" She smiled at her new husband and blushed a little.

Charmed, Darien bent down to steal a kiss. "I wouldn't worry too much about that, m'dear. Jareth is taking care of it for us. Says it's the least he could do for the woman who returned his lovely Sarah to him."

"Oh!" Susan said, dismayed. "But Darien, I didn't really do that much! Aslan was the one who did it all. Oh, it's just too much. How in the world are we ever going to repay Jareth?"

"We don't have to, Su," Darien said practically. "It's a gift. All you have to do is tell him 'thank you.' But there is one thing he mentioned he would like from us, though..." Darien paused nervously.

"Yes? What did he say?"

Darien chewed his lip, not knowing how to bring it up. "Well, he said for me to ask you –"

At that moment, Jareth and Sarah approached, panting from the dance. "Su! Did he ask you yet?" Sarah asked excitedly.

"I was just about to," Darien said weakly.

"Ask me what?" Susan demanded, suspicious now. "Does this have anything to do with giving presents to the guests?" Sarah laughed, and Susan turned a wary glance at her.

Jareth thought it best to defuse the potentially explosive situation by stepping into his formal persona. "Queen Susan, it is my pleasure to provide your guest-gifts for you as the barest minimum of a gesture of gratitude to you for returning Sarah to me.

"As I have already mentioned to your new husband, it is my great pleasure to offer you a home in my kingdom as well, should you wish it. I do not know what sort of sacrifice it would be to leave your other world to join us here in the Underground, but know that you are welcome to stay with us forever if you wish it."

Susan gasped. Live, here? In the Underground, forever? "Where... where would we live?" she asked warily.

Jareth and Sarah exchanged smiling glances. "You would both be welcome in the castle," Sarah said warmly. "But if you would rather be alone together, Jareth and I would understand, and would provide you with a house and staff of servants in the Goblin City."

"And I would be very appreciative if you would both join my council," Jareth added. He said rather apologetically to Susan, "I know there can only be one queen of a kingdom, and that is Sarah; you would be called either Lady Susan or Queen Susan, Retired; but I would be loath to lose the benefit of your experience and wisdom."

"So what about it?" Sarah asked with a smile. "Of course, if you want to go back to being secretary for the marketing department of a third-rate publishing house..."

"Say no more!" Susan commanded, holding up her hand. "Please!" She turned to Darien. "What do you think? You're the one who actually has something to go back to."

Grinning, he shook his head. "Aslan told me my work there was done; if I wished, I could stay. Apparently, my work was to show you the way back to Him!"

Susan smiled brightly, with tears starting in her eyes. "Then do you wish to stay?"

Darien nodded decisively. "Very much. Not that I won't miss my parishioners, but my assistant will be able to take over and will probably do a better job than I did." He grinned at Jareth. "And I wouldn't mind another crack at that manticore!"

Jareth grinned. "So what is your decision, Queen Susan?"

Susan let the tears of happiness flow freely. "That's Lady Susan to you, King Jareth. We will accept, with gratitude!"

Sarah squealed and threw her arms around her blond-haired friend. "Oh, I'm so glad! I would have missed you so! The goblins are nice in their way, but I have rather missed human companionship!"

Jareth cleared his throat and looked wounded. Sarah winked at him. "Although Sidhe companionship does have its advantages too," she consoled. He grinned.

"Right, then, that's settled. Thank you, Jareth," Darien said briskly. "It's a very kind and generous offer."

"Not so generous as you think," Jareth warned him. "I plan to go with you to tackle that manticore next time!"

Susan rolled her eyes. "Boys!" she exclaimed. She reached up to kiss her new husband lightly on the mouth, then gave Jareth a kiss on the cheek before sliding her arm through Sarah's and walking off with her. "If you need us, we'll be in the castle," she said over her shoulder as they departed. "Go show that manticore who's boss, why don't you!"

Left very suddenly alone, the two men glanced at each other in consternation. "This isn't how I expected to spend my wedding night," Darien admitted.

Jareth nodded agreement. "We may yet regret bringing those two back together," he said ruefully.

Darien grinned. "From what Su told me, they already regret introducing the two of us!"

Jareth laughed. "So, shall we hunt the manticore? Or shall we put it off in favour of more typical wedding-night pursuits?"

Darien just gave him a look, and Jareth laughed again. "Couldn't agree more!" he said. "Come on, then, I'll show you to your apartments!" Jareth held out a crystal; Darien touched it and they transported to the castle.

It would be difficult to say which couple had a more exciting wedding night, or a happier ever-after.


End file.
